A Thing I Guess I Do

Consistency is a thing that first of all makes me think of ketchup and then makes me think of catsup. But more about me… 

As a figure who 1) has been labeled “most laidback and sarcastic” by her cosmetology school cohorts, 2) has annihilated human relationships with unbridled anxiety, 3) had like 7 adult careers by the age of 28 and 4) identifies unmistakably clear correlations between the aforementioned achievements, I don’t claim to be the most constant of characters. 

However, I do have a few consistent characteristics: 

• I sometimes permit series that lack parallelism, as demonstrated in the above numbered list, due to error allowance for the greater good. 
• My skin is that of a pink baby piglet and only gets more pink and piglet-y with age/spice/drink. 
• I spontaneously purchase plane tickets when I’m un- or in-tentionally unemployed—and come to think of it, I've purchased plane tickets in order to become unemployed. 

Due to light workload and, perhaps, my forthrightness about a desire for more work, my position was recently gently eliminated. The gentleness of the elimination was further soothed by a generous severance. 

So there I was with an inbox full of Airbnb requests and airline promos and a schedule fraught with possibility. I ended up with a ticket to Baltimore/Washington, D.C. and from there to Reykjavik—on top of a pre-existing ticket to San Francisco to visit my very tall little sister.

Coming your way are a few posts on how I managed to save a few bucks here and there visiting what is considered a more costly European destination, a few tips on driving in Iceland and an overview of what I did that you might also like to do.

But skipping ahead ahead...I'm searching for a few projects to work on for Hobo Siren and so far I have:

• Watch and dissect every episode of Golden Girls.
• Watch and dissect every film in which Dolly Parton has starred.
• Watch and dissect the rest of Dawson's Creek. 

I don't know. What do you want from me?

Let's Make a Deal

I've missed writing for Hobo Siren. Now, don't confuse that with guilt over not blarghing. I write all day for work; there need be no compulsory blooophging in my life. (Don't get me wrong—if I've disappointed anyone by my absence, then good on me, right?)

Excuses are boring. But boy do I have plenty. I'm getting grumpy just thinking about all the reasons.

So here's what we'll do: I'll bloorghpfft a little. Or think about bloughing a little.

Because the other day while shopping for plane tickets to Portland I bought a plane ticket to Iceland—because Ice>Port apparently.

So I'll try and blog about it. 

Deal?

Happy Friday, Everyone

Atwood Hide and Seek from Summer Grimes on Vimeo.

Links for Lazy Writers Like Me

Art Crank is just around the corner.

I was just-a-little-bit obsessed with the abandoned Six Flags when I lived in New Orleans. Here is an entire site dedicated to the deserted, dissipated and derelict across the country.

I read everything I can find about Patti Smith, and I'm also a raging feminist, so this is right up my alley.

Puppies are so much cuter than babies anyway.

Links for Lazy Writers Like Me

Above is my Tuesday-evening impulse purchase—by Sarah Hedlund Graphic Design & Illustration. It is everything I've ever wanted. See her other art here.

Would you like to see an absurd video I made? Here is one:

I'd been searching for the right music to accompany Atwood's b@d@$$ moves, and then realized that it was I who had written it. Full version here.

I can't get enough of this Yes and Yes True Story: I Have Narcolepsy. It genuinely puts my own sleep issues into perspective.

A great writer I very much enjoy interviewed Fran Lebowicz, who has some very, very strong opinions about fashion. I can't disagree with her yoga pants stance, and all I've ever wanted to do was get away with cowboy boots outside of New Orleans, but she's got a whoooooole bunch of opinions—and claims, like “I feel very strongly that almost the entire city has copied my glasses.” Mmm mm mmm. So bold. 

Is this enough links for a post?

BOOSH!

You'll Never Believe the Twist at the End!

As some of you already know, I have expanded my family. Please meet my little toothless terrier, Atwood:

Atwood was rescued at a puppy mill auction by Underdog Rescue last April and fostered by a wonderful, large-hearted woman (a heart large enough for her own three dogs and three fosters). I don't know what I was doing on their website, but I stumbled across his dumb little face, and a few weeks later, emboldened by many a pros/cons list and the fact that no one had expressed ANY interest in him, I was officially his official human.

Atwood came as Eugene, but I have too many uncles named Eugene (one. one uncle is enough uncles named Eugene to merit an dog-name change), and he just looks like an Atwood.

Because of neglect and etc. he had to have what was remaining of his teeth removed. But I'm not going to lie—that was 75% of his appeal. At best guess he is seven years old, and I've spent only a little time wondering how many little Yorkie babies he's fathered over the years, even though I don't like to think of him “that way.”

Atwood accompanies me to the office where he naps on my desk.

What an idiot, right? Recently I returned from a short trip to the kitchen to discover that he had attempted to help me with some client work:

.8gbtn bghg0..,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,mlm0…….lmmml0mlop0komn []’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[ [[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\]]]]201 sz

I tell you: I did not see that ending coming.

Wondering how Edie is doing with the transition? Juuuuust fine...

 

Links for Lazy Writers Like Me

My cool comedienne friend, Jenn Schaal, has been doing insane things like waking up at an unpublishable-adverb-early time and lifting hundreds of pounds. She is 40 weeks into this.

Countdown to 30 Days of Biking has begun. This weekend I plan on getting my bike a little better equipped for longer rides. Note: the pledge doesn't require you only bike for 30 days—just that you put your butt on a bike seat every day for 30 days.

Here's a project that's allowing young native women to be the voice of their stories.

Here's a cost-of-living calculator to determine the best foreign cities to live and work remotely. Filters include things like Women's Safety, Internet Speed and Air Quality.

GUHHHHHH.

More GUHHHHHH.